Installment #44 Epilogue

Installment #44

 Epilogue

Jack and Leroy watched as the body was brought out and placed in the back of the ambulance. As the tow truck secured the Jeep, Jack remembered the black Jeep that turned into an obscure road 30 minutes up the road. When he mentioned it to Leroy, he recalled the same black Jeep following them down to the farm. Perhaps Marshall’s keys would be found there. And Ambrose. And Jeffery. And some where in Denver, Jennifer would be thanking her lucky stars that she was born a lesbian and had never even looked at her boss “that way”.

A man in Brattleboro, Vermont was boarding a plane for Stapleton International Airport in Denver, Colorado to assist in looking for his lost son.  Or so he thought. When he landed he would find that the lost son had been found and the other son that was found was now completely lost, forever. Knowing that the men would be down from the mountain soon, Meg got the Bunn ready and poured the water through.


Her mind flashed to that morning when she had made coffee. She remembered reaching for the panel that was in the doggie door.  She jumped when the door bell rang.

Kevin gave her a hug.  “It will take time, mom.” She hurried to the door and was surprised to find Fred there, and it looked like he had trimmed his beard! He held his hat in his hands and smiled timidly at Meg. A simple man, she thought. A very simple man. Like her Tommy. Meg smiled and held the door open wider as he entered and she looked into his very dark eyes; Kevin’s eyes. She realized that he was also freshly showered and carried the scent of the great out doors. The fresh clean scent of…… Irish Spring.

The end....for now.

Installment #43 Marshall

Installment #43

Marshall

Marshall realized when he pulled into his yard that he did not have a key to his house on his key ring since his keys were God only knew where and would need to enter through the tunnel entrance. Parking near the front door he left the door of the Jeep open. He was not going to be here very long. He was just going to grab Meg and slip back down the mountain before the Johnny laws decided to spread out; start searching the area. And he sure did not want to be standing there with his arms full of Meg Parker when they popped into the yard.

“Oh, gee, look what I found sleeping in my bed!” He quickly reached the edge of the clearing and without a look around, he slid the door over, stepped inside and slid it back into place. No sense tempting fate. He flipped the switch that illuminated the tunnel and was amazed to see Meg standing in the middle of the tunnel being held erect by Fred, the idiot handyman.
“What in the hell are you doing in my tunnel This is my property! Where are you taking that woman?”

Fred stared at the livid man.
“What are you doing with this woman? You are holding her against her will! I ain’t stupid. I dug her out of your root cellar. I am taking her to her home. You have no right doing this. This is just wrong.” A tear slid down Fred’s face and Marshall laughed.

“You damn simpleton! You have meddled where you have no business. How do you think you are going to stop me from what I want? Look at her! She is sound asleep. Are you going to drop her and then what? You under fed little faggot, you are not going to get out of this tunnel. At least not alive. Now I will wait while you put her down very gently over there against the wall and then I am going to very quietly break your f-ing neck. Or I will just break your neck and catch her when she falls. Your choice, simple simon.”

Fred knew there was no way out of this one. He knew that he did not stand a chance in hell against this giant before him. He would do what he could to protect Meg with his last breathe, but he had to put her out of harms way.
“Let me put her down.  I don’t want her to get hurt. I will put her right over there and then we will settle this man to man. At least I will try.  Momma always said I should do my very best.”
Marshall flushed beet red.  “Your momma? What in the hell is wrong with you? Your momma should have told you about the big bad boogie man that lives in the tunnel, you little wooze. Now put her down!”

Fred eased Meg against the wall and let her slide gently to the ground.  He bent and kissed her on top of the head and straigtened just in time to see a look of horror on Marshall Purcell’s face. He saw his glass eye pop out and fall to the floor. He saw Marshall turn and move toward the open door. What Marshall had seen was Kevin who had just thrown a huge rock and hit him in the back of the head. What Marshall did not see was the razor sharp Machete raised in the air and propelled though the air with a force that even Freddie Himes, Jr did not know he had in his body. When the downward thrust was finished the jugular vein that had fed the evil mind of Marshall Purcell was completely severed.

Kevin and Fred locked eyes above the now inert body that lay on the floor of the tunnel. Kevin rushed to Meg. He gathered her in his arms and together the three of them skirted past the dead man and hurried to the door.  When they were outside Fred closed the door and twisted the lock. He was shaking and sweating. He looked at Kevin and began to cry.

 “Oh, man I was so scared! I knew I had to get her out of there when I found her. I knew he was a bad man and then when he caught me, I figured we were both goners. Where did you come from? You are her kid, right? How did you know she was in there? Oh, we got to tell somebody!”

Kevin looked at the sad little man and knew he had to do something with Meg so he could do something with Fred.  He located a big boulder nearby and nodded toward it with his head.

“Set down over there, Fred and I will put mom beside you and you hold her while I make a call.”

 And Fred, the innocent little child he was, did as he was told. Fred sat and Kevin gently placed Meg beside him.
“Hold her so she doesn’t fall while I call the guys down at the farm.”

Meg was just beginning to stir when the sheriff cars rolled up Storm Lake road and onto the Purcell property. When Jack came out of the tunnel he looked at Kevin and Fred.
“Who swung that machete? It is stuck in his bone and probably not ever gonna come out. Now who goes first? Not Meg. She looks like she is still pretty out of it. That Adavan is some potent shit. Fred, is it? You start. Try to remember everything that happened. How did you find Mrs. Parker? Do you know this guy? Oh, go ahead, just tell it like it happened.”

 “Well, I shot me a little deer. Oh, God, now I am going to jail for sure. Damn! Damn!”

Jack laughed. “We will let this one slide, just tell us what happened here.”
“Well, I shot me a little deer and the shot was off a bit so I tracked it over here. Found it right by that tree over there.  I looked through the trees and saw this big guy carry a woman into the house and then leave. I kind of thought it looked like the Parker woman but I wasn’t real sure. Well, I trussed up the deer and hung it and slit it’s throat and then field dressed it so it would be good to eat. When I wrapped the sheet around it to keep the flies off  I got to thinking that if it was her she might be in trouble. Well, I knew this tunnel was here cause I dug it. I knew that would be the only way I could get in the house, so I went there.  The tunnel is different now than it used to be so it took me a while to figure out that he had changed it. I knew she was somewhere in there so I figured it had to be in the root cellar. I found the soft dirt and dug it out and went in and there she was! And it was her! And I knew I had to get her out of there and quick cause he would be back. And he was. Caught us right out there where you found him. Would have been me if this guy had not come along.”

He indicated Kevin.   Jack looked at Kevin expectantly.

 “Well, I just happened to walk up here and I saw that deer hanging in the tree and it scared hell out of me. Then I climbed a tree and saw that I could see the farm from the top of it. While I was up there I saw the guy get out of the black Jeep and walk around in the yard and then head towards the tree. I figured I was a goner, but he opened a door or something and disappeared inside. I thought that was weirder than weird so I crept a little closer and I picked up a rock just in case. The door did not make a sound and I was damn glad of that! When I peered in there I seen him and Fred and mom. Did not take much to figure out who the bad guy was. When Fred was putting mom down the guy was intent on that and when Fred kissed the top of her head I threw that rock with everything I had and prayed like a demon. But Fred is the real hero here.” He beamed at Fred.

 Meg stirred and looked at Fred in bewilderment. A gurney appeared and it was clear Meg was going to be checked out in the back of the ambulance. She was like a little girl as they placed her on the cot and put the oxygen over her nose. The last thing she could remember was reaching to lift up the doggie door.

“Well you two are going to need to undergo a complete debriefing at the house so Leroy will give you a ride down.”
Fred suddenly looked very agitated.  “Look, I ain’t done nothing wrong, except that deer. I got that deer and I can’t let that meat go to waste.  That would be just wrong!  Can I just take it home and cut it up some and stick it in the cooler? Then I could come down there.”

Jack smiled at the rough country man. “Yeah, go ahead. If you leave it hanging there you are going to get in trouble for sure. But come down as quick as you can.” And Fred hurried away into the forest, intent on his job. Meg and Kevin walked down the mountain instead of riding. Meg thought the exercise would do her good.  Clear her head. As they neared the farm the dogs caught sight of her and ran to meet them.  She laughed as she held the two squirming bodies and caught sight of the calico cat watching them with a haughty air. This was home.

Installment 39 Fred

Installment #39

Fred

Fred switched on the miner’s light on his hat. Damn glad he had it on there. Well, it was always on his head except when he was sleeping. You just never knew when you might need a light and right now he sure needed one. This tunnel was black as old Coty’s ….well it was black alright. He took a few tentative steps forward. The tunnel was dark, and damp, and musty. He would have bet there were lots of spiders and centipedes and Lord only knew what. It was hard to believe that just a foot above his head the sun was shining very brightly, because down here it was another world. Well, this was no place to wishy wash about something. Just do it. Sooner you do it the sooner it was done. And Fred, although every fiber of his being wanted to turn and run out into the bright sunlight, pointed his lantern forward and walked determinedly forward.  Something was not right and by God in Heaven, Fred Himes was going to find out what it was and for once in his life, set it right.

He was amazed at how quickly he arrived at the back entrance to the house.  Sure seemed a lot further when he was digging the silly thing. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. Not a sound.  He knew the man was gone, but still the cabin was deathly quiet. Very slowly he eased the door inward. Nothing. Not even a drippy faucet. Absolute silence. Now the door was completely open. He looked around at the kitchen. Not a dish out of place. The towel hung on the oven door handle. The clock hand moved jerkily around. Fred stepped in the kitchen and closed the tunnel door behind himself. He moved stealthily across the kitchen to the bathroom. Empty. Living room. Undisturbed and empty.

There had to be a woman here somewhere. He had seen the man bring her inside. He very slowly opened the bedroom door and peered inside. No one. Fred stared in consternation at his face in the mirror. Where was she? He canvassed the house once more and then his eyes fell on the door beside the door he had come through. The root cellar! That had to be the root cellar. After he had dug the tunnel the man had altered it and instead of coming up the tunnel to the root cellar, he had come up the tunnel to the back door. Why had he changed that? Fred reached for the door and froze.

How many times had he pictured his father doing this exact samething? Only when he pictured his father he also pictured his mother. His dear, dead mother being placed in the wall of the root cellar by his father. How many times had he gone to the root cellar to get beets, or potatoes, or onions. How many times when the tornado sirens were screaming had he and his father gone to the root cellar knowing that was the one place the tornado could not touch. And not once had he even thought about what might be in the wall of the root cellar.

Never once had he dreamt that his dear sainted mother was sleeping her death sleep just a few feet from him and his father. His father knew. He knew all along and never said a word. When Fred had wished his mother would come back to them and voiced that desire to his father, his father had only said, “Quit dreaming, Freddie, if she was coming back she never would have left.”

Fred often wondered what had happened the night she died. Or was it day? He never even  remembered them ever fighting. Just mom looking sad and dad reading the paper. They never talked. How could his father have ever worked up enough emotion to kill his mother? His father and mother were both unemotional people. He stared at the door.  He was going to have to open it and see what was behind it. Slowly he grasped the knob and turned it. Well, not turning. Locked. Locked! That meant the woman, probably Meg Parker was behind that door and she was locked in there. If she was locked in there she was not a willing participant that was clear. He scoured the door frame for a key. None. The man must have the key.

Think! Think! He remembered back to when he dug the tunnel. At that time it had been through the root cellar. Now it was not. He jerked the tunnel door open, took a few steps and reached his hand out and felt the wall. A little further down.  More. There! The dirt was soft. The man had removed the dirt over there, placing it over here. By doing that he had altered the location of the tunnel. Not much, but enough so the root cellar could now be used as a prison for someone. Or a place to bury her. Maybe she was dead. With a furor he never knew he had Fred unsnapped the folding shovel that hung from his waist and began to dig frantically in the soft dirt. Very soon he had a hole through and could see inside the root cellar. All he could see was another wall, but he would be in the room very soon. And like a man fighting for his very life, he continued to throw dirt over his shoulder until at last the hole was big enough for him to slide through.

As he stood up and looked around he saw her clearly. Meg Parker lay on a small cot with a soft cloth on her shoulder. Chloroform! He moved the cloth, but Meg did not stir. Fred was unsure of anything at that moment. As he gazed down at the sleeping woman something stirred in his soul. Something very far back in the deep recesses of his mind fluttered and made him feel wanted. Something made him feel warm. He touched her cheek tentatively, then smiled. Funny, he did not remember smiling in a very long time, but now it felt rather natural. He knew what he had to do and as he reached for
the woman he felt like he had just come home from a very long and bitter war.

Meg Parker. Darling.

Installment #38 Marshall

Installment #38

Marshall

Marshall opened the back of the Jeep and began throwing wood off to the side. When Ambrose lay before him he took a deep breathe and  hoisted the big man unceremoniously to the ground. Well this was going to be a dragging act because he sure could not lift him. Oh, yeah, there was the snow shovel!  Glad he had bought that. It would come in handy for this task. He wedged the handle under a nearby boulder and pulled Ambrose into position. There we go!  Brains over brawn any day of the week. He grasped the handle, maneuvered into position and was amazed at how easily the load went up the hill, through the opening and as he neared the hole ahead he turned the handle and pushed the body near the hole. Now, how to unload it without getting too close. Marshall studied the site for a moment and then laughed. All he had to do was get the body a little further and then raise the handle and off into the eternal never land of sleep the cop would go!

Very carefully he moved the body forward until he felt it start to pull the shovel down.  He slowly raised the handle just an inch or two and Holy Shit! In the hole it all went, shovel, body and damn near Marshall. In just the briefest moment of clarity, he released the shovel handle right before it jerked him over the side. There was the first thud as the body hit the wall. He waited. He waited. The second thud never came. He crept closer to the edge and shined his light over the side. Holy Mother! The man was straddling the shovel which was wedged into a crevice. He stared closer. That rat bastard was laughing at him!  He played his light around the walls. There was no way down and no way up.  He was just going to have to stay there and laugh, because there was nothing Marshall could do at this point. The corpse had stolen his shovel and was now hanging above the abyss laughing at him. This was not good. This was not good at all. Marshall contemplated his options. Let’s see, he could climb to the bottom and what? Stay there the rest of his life? Or he could take the high road and do nothing. That seemed the way to go. If some idiot happened to stumble on his little cavern here, the bodies on the bottom might go unnoticed, but Brome Hilda there on the shovel handle was practically begging to be seen. Oh, well, that was a problem he could do nothing about.

Oh, and that shovel handle. He had not left a fingerprint on anyone in the bottom there, but that shovel handle would be a treasure trove of DNA and the little dealy with the ISBN number on it could be traced to the hardware store and right to Mr. Marshall Purcell. A trickle of sweat began to run down his neck and on down his back. Felt like a damn Centipede! He stood erect and hurried from the cavern into the bright Colorado sunlight.

As he hurried down the hill and the Jeep came in sight he reached in his pocket for the keys. Other pocket. He stopped and patted himself from top to bottom. Every pocket he had. Crap! Not again! He had just had this talk with himself about not locking his keys in the car and now, when he was in a hurry, he had done the very thing he had warned himself about. He stopped and went through the pockets again. They had to be in the Jeep. He had to have them to get here so they were not on him, they had to be in there. Just in case he got lucky he walked to the back of the Jeep and stared at the empty lock. Not there. Nope, definitely not there. He walked to the passenger door.  Locked. He looked in the ignition. Not there. Oh, no!  Had that cop somehow managed to pick his pocket? Dead people did very strange things. He knew that for a fact.

There was that whore he had picked up on Larimer Street that one afternoon. He had checked them all out and she appeared to be the cleanest one of the bunch. She was wearing a skirt so short he thought he could see her panties. Or not panties. She had huge breasts. They were so big he thought they must be false.  He pulled the Jeep to the curb and looked directly at her. She came and leaned in the window and he reached over and touched her cleavage.
“How much?”
 “For what, sweetie? An hour? A blow job? All day? You got to tell Flo what you want.”
“All afternoon. A walk in the forest. I want to screw on the forest floor on a pile of pine needles."
 “You ain’t kinky are you? You won’t hurt me will you? Johnny doesn’t like me to leave this area, so it gonna cost you extra. Johnny gets mean sometimes.”
“Get in Flo. I will make it worth your time. “

He opened the door and settled back behind the wheel. Flo climbed in and nestled back into the leather seat. “Nice,” she said and smiled showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. Marshall slipped the Jeep into drive and pulled out into the traffic headed west toward the mountains. It did not take long to reach the area he sought. Flo was enjoying the act of being a lady and waited for him to open her door.  He took her hand and led her to a nearby blanket of pine needles. She giggled as he spread a sheet over the top of the aromatic bed provided by Mother Nature. He removed her sunglasses and stared into her eyes. Yes, he had chosen well. He settled himself on the newly made bed.  He removed his slacks and indicated what he wanted.
“And look at me while you are doing it. Look me right in the eyes.”
She began her work and she was very good at it. Her eyes never left his.
“Oh, Mother!” he murmured as she worked on him and as he felt his release he screamed the words, “MOTHER, MOTHER, MOTHER!” And then it was over and he was spent.
He felt the tears spilling down his cheeks. And then she laughed. Damned whore! Who was she to laugh at him? He grabbed her tit and bit down with all the force he had as she screamed and tried to pull away. He spit the nipple across the forest floor and grabbed her head and snapped her neck. Bitch! She had made something so beautiful, dirty. Marshall wrenched his mind away from that afternoon and focused, slowly on the problem at hand.

He was locked out of his jeep in a very bad place. His keys were probably down at the bottom of the cavern along with lots of bones, the whore included. Well, he sure as hell could not call Triple AAA. Well, he could, but that move would not be wise at all. Then he smiled. Then he chuckled. He was not screwed yet. He had a key hidden in the Jeep under the seat. He had done that because this was not his first rodeo. He would simply pick up a rock and break the window, reach in and open the door and get the key and drive his little self home. Life was good. He quickly located a rock that was satisfactory for the purpose and slammed it into the window. Not quite as easy as he thought, but soon he was inside the Jeep and had the key in the ignition and disarmed the shrill alarm that was quickly destroying his ear drums.

He backed the Jeep around until he was positioned for the downhill descent, slowly released the clutch and moved forward, never once looking at the ring of keys laying in the dirt not 10 feet from the back of the Jeep. He was intent on getting home to the woman he loved.

Installment #36 Fred

Installment #36

 Fred

Fred shouldered his gun and started across the road following the small deer.. He had come across it behind his barn just as the sun was trying to pull itself up out of the ground.  It was just the size he liked, not too big, but out of its fawn spots. The shot had gone just a hair to one side and not brought it down with a clean shot that he liked. It bolted and ran across the road heading west. Fred was in no hurry because the deer would not go far and his house was just up ahead.

As he started towards Storm Lake Road he heard a vehicle and habit made him conceal himself. He was surprised to see the black Jeep. Today was Sunday and usually when the man was at home he arrived on Friday. Oh, there was someone with him. That would explain him being here now.  He apparently had been partying and now they were just getting home. Fred caught a brief glimpse of the woman as the jeep skidded, slowed and righted itself. That guy must be drunk to drive like that.

 Hey! That looked a lot like Meg Parker. No way. What would she be doing with that weirdo? Nothing, that was what, absolutely nothing. He shook his head and continued following the blood droplets through the forest. The little deer was now headed just slightly down hill. Oh crap! At this trajectory it would end up right at the scar faced guy’s cabin. Well, too bad because he was not going to lose this meat. This was his and nobody was going to take it away. He had spent the last few weeks with only minimal amounts of squirrel and dove meat and this was going to be his feast. The small deer lay at the base of the tree where the telescope was stored. Oh, well.

He quickly took a length of rope from his belt and lashed the deer’s back feet together with one end. Then he took a longer length from his bag on his side and tossed one end of it over a tree branch on another tree. He did not want to leave signs here where the man could find them. Not that it mattered, but why rock the boat? He then returned and dragged the deer to the rope that dangled from the branch. He tied the rope to the trussed deer and began to raise the deer. As soon as it’s head was waist high he secured the rope, took out a very sharp hunting knife and slit the deer’s throat. He did not like to watch this part so he walked away a few yards and looked up the hill at the cabin.

What was that guy doing? He was carrying logs to the rear of the Jeep and now he was putting them in the back. Did he have a fireplace at his place in town? And he could not tell from here, but the woman seemed to be sleeping very soundly. The man slammed the door on the back of the Jeep and went around to the passenger door.  He watched as the man lifted her out and carried her inside. Drunk, no doubt, but she sure looked like Meg Parker from here. But that made no sense. When the door closed behind the man, Fred turned back to the deer. He slit it from sternum to anus and spilled the insides out on the ground for the forest critters. He took an old sheet from his bag and wrapped the deer securely. Now he could carry it back to his barn and finish butchering it. This would be very good venison. But he must do something first.

 He quickly climbed the tree and pulled the telescope into position. He zeroed in on the farm below. It was quiet. Too quiet. The dogs were in their yard looking very forlorn. Why had Meg left them outside? How long had they been there? They were always with her, unless she was not there. He looked back at the cabin behind him and saw the man hurrying to his Jeep. He watched as he jumped quickly inside and drove away. Why would a man with a woman inside leave like that? Fred did not know. What Fred did know was that the tunnel that led to the house was right over there. And he also knew if the woman inside the cabin was Meg Parker , she was in trouble. He also knew that the very thought of entering that tunnel scared the bejesus out of him.

That tunnel would be just like the root cellar where his mother had spent so many years entombed by a man he called his father. The man was gone. He could walk right across the yard and see what was going on inside. But how would he get in the house? Right back to the first solution. The tunnel led to the house and into the kitchen. He was going to have to go through the tunnel. And he was going to have to do it very soon. The man would be back, of that he was sure. With a sad glance at his beautiful deer, and another down the mountain where he saw the Jeep now passing the Parker farm, he climbed down the tree and headed for the entrance to the tunnel. His lips moved in silent prayer as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Installment #29

Meg

Meg let her computer boot up as she changed into her
pajamas. It had been a long day. A long and completely wasted
day. She had left home this morning thinking that maybe tonight
she would be in Eldon’s arms, but that had not happened. A
wasted trip to Denver and a long, lonely drive home. Daisy and
Elvira were happy to see her and that cheered her up a little.
They were such simple creatures. She would let them stay out of
the crates until she finished her computer work.

Forty-eight emails. She scanned the list and nothing from
redranger. Well, she was not going to write him. He had been
the one who did not show up and he owed her an apology at the
very least. She answered six questions. She had sold eight items
so she printed out the PayPal receipts, deleted the Item sold and
copies of the pay for your items. The remaining 18 were mostly
advertisements that had escaped the Spam filter and a few
newsletters and three forwards, “You have to read this it is really
funny! ” They weren’t.

She closed her email and put the computer into the sleep
mode and stood and pushed her chair into the desk. She got
the dog treats and walked to the crates. The dogs took their
bribes and ran into the crates to devour them. Meg looked at her
big, lonely bed and for the first time in a very long time she felt
totally and completely alone. She had never met Eldon, the
redranger, but she missed him. She felt that a very vital piece
of Meg Parker was missing. She switched on the television
knowing full well she would not sleep this night. Too bad
Johnny Carson was not on anymore. He had always made her
laugh. The television was programmed to turn off after one
hour if she did not tap the action button. Saved energy that way.
She watched the end of CSI and then burrowed into the big
lonely bed as the weather man started pointing at different low
fronts.

She did not get the details of the week ahead as her
head nodded and when the perky little blonde announced that
the Architect who was coming to Denver to add his expertise to
the new addition at Invesco Field had left Brattleboro,
Vermont, arrived in Denver had then disappeared into thin air.
But her ears were deaf and her body completely relaxed. Had
she been awake she might have made the connection between
Jeffery Eldon Purcell and the redranger, but she was not. She
was dreaming of a tall dark stranger who was eluding her even
in her dreams.

Installment #27

Installment #27

Him

Marshall Purcell doused his lights and pulled to the side
of the road. He watched as Meg drove into the garage and the
door closed behind her. First the kitchen light came on. She
would be greeting the dogs if the idiot that took care of the place
had not locked them in their crates. Then he saw the light at the
top of the stairs and he watched as the kitchen light went dark.

Ah, if he were there now she would be coming down the
hallway to him. He would be laying on the bed reading.

NO!  He would be IN the bed reading. He would be naked under the
lavender sheets. NO! That was not right! He would be setting in
the overstuffed chair, fully dressed. He would be reading
Tolstoy or something just as boring. She would come in and kiss
him lightly on top of the head and then touch him lightly on the
shoulder. And he would grab her and pull her to him!

NO! My God what was he thinking! If he were to kiss
her she would no doubt part her lips slightly and he might touch
the tip of her tongue with his. NO! This was wrong! This
whole thing was getting out of control! He hated sex! He
groaned as he felt the hardness pushing against the crotch of his
suit pants. If that thing was going to keep acting like this he
would cut it off! “If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out.“
Well that was already plucked out and by God, no less.

He started the Jeep and pulled onto the road as he began to sob.

Installment #28

Installement #28

Fred

Her farm was a small one and not really a farm at all. Just a
house, chicken house and that was it. The garage was attached
to the house.

Meg Parker was a fine figure of a woman, he had to give
her that. She pretty much kept to herself and not much traffic
that he had ever seen. Sure thing no men running in and out.
Dogs pretty well had the run of the place now that he had
installed the doggie door. Hadn’t needed the cage on the
outside. Little bitty doggie door and you’d have to be a damn
string bean to get through it and into the house what with the
dog leg he had installed inside. Guy could get trapped and
starve to death in a deal like that.

As Fred neared the edge of the clearing he saw car lights
coming up the road. And back further a second car. Lot of
traffic for this area and this time of night. The first car slowed
and turned into the Parker place. Hmmm. Meg must be home
from wherever she had gone. Was that other car going to her
place? Meg drove into the garage and lowered the door. The
second car drove slowly past her drive and then its lights went
out and he watched as it parked on the side of the road. What
was that all about? Was Meg in danger? He touched his 44
Magnum, reassuring himself that it was there. And the machete.
He watched as the light came on in the kitchen. Then he
watched as the light went on upstairs and the kitchen light went
out. And he watched the car. Well not a car, some kind of big
vehicle. Hey wait! That vehicle looked familiar. He crept
closer. It was a Black Jeep. Like that fella over west of him.
The guy who had him dig that long tunnel into the forest. Jeez
that had been a job and a half. Damn near got the best of him
all those rocks and roots.

Fred waited, wondering what the guy was doing. Spying
on Meg Parker? What could he see? Nothing. Needed to take a
leak? Gonna have to get out of the car to do that! Nothing was
happening. Nothing. Whoops! The car started suddenly and Fred
jumped guiltily. At least he was behind it so he probably had
gone undetected. Then the Jeep pulled onto Bonner Road and the
lights came on along with the blinker turning left onto Storm
Lake Road. It was that crazy bastard! This was very strange, but
along with the feeling of bewilderment came a growing sense of
dread. Something was not right here and he did not like it. He
had dealt with this character and not been comfortable at all when
he did. And the tunnel. What was that all about? He had
wondered, but only a little. Now it took on new meaning. Why
was the guy parked there watching Meg’s house? Better be on
our toes, Freddy boy.

And he turned back and headed North to his little cabin in
the big woods.

Installment #26

Installment #26

Meg

Meg stepped out of the little silver Ford and took the
parking stub from the valet. She smiled as she walked into
the lobby of the Sheraton and spotted the entrance to the
restaurant. She smiled at the maitre de and told him she was
meeting some one. “Is he here yet? His name is Eldon.”

“No one by that name has checked in yet. Perhaps
madam would like to wait at the bar and I will let you know
when he arrives?”
 Meg agreed and soon found herself seated
at the bar. She checked her watch and saw that it was already
12:20. Eldon had said noon. He was already 20 minutes late.
Well maybe he had gotten tied up. Things do have a way of
doing that. She ordered a glass of white wine and began her
favorite pastime of people watching. By one o’clock she was
fidgeting and by 2:00 she was fuming. The clientele in the
lounge had turned over at least once. The waiter was
beginning to look askance at her. She knew how many
glasses of wine she had sipped and that she really needed to
get something in her stomach before she started the long drive
home. She caught the waiter’s eye.

“ I guess my friend is tied up. Might I have a small
table, preferably by a window? I really should eat something
before I drive my car.” She smiled at the sad young man.

“Certainly, ma’am. I have just the table for you. Great
view of the garden and if you stretch your neck to the right you
can see the fountain.”

“Then I shall ‘stretch my neck’!” She laughed as she rose
to follow him to the table. Once more she was seated, but this
time with a glass of Raspberry Iced Tea instead of wine and a
blackened tilapia served on wild rice with pinon and basil,
recommended by Jerome, the waiter who reminded her very
much of her dear Kevin. She had craned her neck and managed
to see the fountain, which was indeed a work of art. But then so
were the gardens.

She would reserve judgment on Eldon aka “redranger”
until she heard from him. He might have a very good excuse.
Or he might be what the Internet warned us all about, a faceless
little creep hiding behind the boiler in a prison somewhere
figuring out a way to get to Meg Parker. She made a silent vow
to herself to find out more about this man that she had become so
attached to through her computer. But right now she just wanted
to go home, back to her part of the mountain where she felt safe
and not so vulnerable as here in the middle of Denver, Colorado,
waiting for a man that she knew was not coming.

She put her money with the bill and closed the cover,
leaving a very generous tip for Jerome. She crossed the lobby
and handed her ticket stub to the valet and waited. When the
little silver car arrived, she tipped the valet and climbed inside.
She adjusted the seat, checked the mirror and pulled into traffic.
She did not notice the black Jeep pull onto the street at the same
time. Nor did she notice the black Jeep when she took the ramp
to I 25 South. Nor as she turned on the Johnny Mathis CD, one
of her deviations from Country Western.

She began to sing along with him “There is someone,
watching your footsteps , Turn around, look at me! There is
someone waiting to hold you, Turn around, look at me. For I
have waited, and I‘ll wait forever, for you to come to me.
Turn around, look at me!”

And she was completely oblivious when she turned into
her yard and pulled into her garage.

But He was not.

Installment #19 Sunday Morning

Meg quickly made a large blender full of her smoothie recipe, blue berries, yogurt, coconut milk, a fresh peach and wheat germ. She poured it into three glasses, put them on a tray beside the scones and carried them to the patio. The boys were intent on watching the sun creeping up over the horizon.

 “See, Greg. It is not at all like California. Even the colors are different. And see how quick it pops up? Not like California at all.”

 “No, but that is because of the humidity, the colors I mean. Colorado is dry.  So the colors are more muted and more reds and oranges. California has humidity so they appear brighter and there are more greens and blues. Ask anyone. Google it. And it pops up because the mountains are there. California is flat. So it goes down real slow.”

 They turned and looked at Meg as if seeking a final opinion. “Yep” was all she said as she picked up her glass, a scone and settled down in the cushioned chair facing the sunrise.

“This is one of the things that keeps me here on this place, right here at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. Heaven on earth. Just ask the chickens.” As if on cue the Rhode Island Red Rooster announced to the world that it was now morning, albeit a bit late. They all laughed. As Kevin set his empty glass back on the tray and dusted the crumbs off his shirt, he turned to Meg with a very serious look on his face.

“Now, mom, you should know how it is with Kevin and I. We have decided to move in together. We have actually found a house we like that is convenient to both of our jobs. When we get back we are going to list his house and I have money from my last home sale, so we are in good shape.”

As an afterthought he added, “ The pub does really well. Especially in this economy.”

Meg digested this little announcement and then smiled. “Well, this is great! I mean really. If one of you were a female, I could throw an engagement party!” She laughed, but the boys did not. “Ok, that is not what I meant to say. What I meant is this, I am very happy for both of you.  I know better than most how hard real love is to come by and I think you two make a great couple. It is a shame that society can not accept, but I think someday they will. Until then, we will just celebrate here at home and I probably will not announce it in church today. Hey!  Let’s just skip church this morning and go into town and celebrate with a lovely lunch!” Church would keep, but Kevin and Greg would not.

They would leave early in the morning and she was selfish. Greg spoke first. “Meg, you will always have a home with us. You are not loosing a son, you are gaining one.” Tears welled up in Meg’s eyes as she silently thanked her God for bringing this kind soul into her son’s life.

Installment #13

Installment #13

Fred


Fred frowned as he hung up the phone. Damn pesky
woman. What was she so afraid of anyway? If anybody was
small enough to get in that doggie door, they were sure as hell
too little to hurt anybody and the dogs could eat them in two
bites. He held the Hershey can in his left hand as he placed the
phone back on the wall with his right. He was not ready to let
this one go. For some reason this one was special.

Usually the money went into a hole in the yard as soon as
he had the time to dig the hole, but he wanted to keep this one for
a while. People would think he was nuts if they knew. Well,
what was nuts about keeping money in cans at home? Made a lot
more sense than handing it over to one of the twits at the bank
who would put it in a drawer and give it out to other people. It
was his and they should not have his money. They had explained
to him that every month he would get a total of how much he
had, much like the account his dad had set up for him when he
was very young. Only that was once a year. He had to go in and
set across the big mahogany desk from some white haired old
fart who droned on about the investments and the check he got
every month and how wonderful his father had been to do this.
Like he was a simpleton!

How much was in that account his dad still controlled
from the grave? He did not remember. More than when it
started. He snorted. Some day the state of Colorado was going
to get a shit pot full of money, courtesy of Fred Himes, Jr. via
Fredric Himes, Sr. He really should leave a note about the cans
in the yard, but why? They were his. Earned by the sweat of his
brow. If he wanted to bury them he could. He could burn that
money if he so chose, but no, he had made a memorial to his
god, who ever that was. Apparently, it was the almighty dollar.
No, because money had never brought him any happiness either.
It was the memory of where the money came from. Like the
$16,450 that was the money for the big barn he had built for that
gimp legged guy over the draw east of him.

Then there was $19,000 from that scar faced guy just
north of Meg’s farm. Now that was crazy. Dug a tunnel from his
root cellar straight west to the edge of the forest. Well, dug a
trench, covered it with planks and then dirt. Nobody knew it was
there. Well, he knew. And the scar faced guy knew. Seemed like
a damn waste of money to him. No equipment! No one must
know. Ok, fella, what ever you say. Wonder where he got that
big scar? It was a gruesome looking thing for sure. Ran from
above his left eye, well where his left eye used to be, across his
cheek and mouth to his right jawbone. What ever it was sure had
to have hurt. Didn’t bother Fred, though. He looked past stuff
like that, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Guy was a definite
loner. Or seemed to be. But he did go into Denver several times
a week. Sometimes he stayed there. Fred knew ‘cause they
shared the road in and out. Funny that he did not seem to have a
name. No mail box either.

Fred sat deep in thought at the kitchen table as he stroked
the Hershey can. His eyes stared into the darkness of the forest.
But he did not see the trees or the tiny forest creatures. He saw
his mother. His mother in her pretty red dress and her white
patent leather shoes. He saw the slash of bright red lipstick on
her mouth and heard her laugh. He heard the radio playing a
lively tune. “Come here, Freddie, come dance with Momma!
Make Momma happy!” And he rose and followed her to the
middle of the wooden kitchen floor. His Momma was so
innocent. She asked for so little, just to be happy. As much as he
tried not to, he would always love his Momma. A tear slid
slowly down his cheek and was lost in his beard.

Installment #12

Installment #12

Meg

Meg walked around the house. The workmen were gone.
She was alone. She had handed Fred the roll of bills and then
insisted he count it for herself as well as for him. She knew it
was there, but she wanted him to know as well. As she watched
him she was suddenly struck by how innocent and child like he
seemed. There was more to Fred Himes then anyone would ever
know. She had asked for a tour around the house so he could
show her what he had done. He explained about the double
welding and that it would take a cutting torch for anyone to get
inside. “So don’t lose your key or you will be sleeping in the
yard.” He had suddenly become agitated when he said that.
Strange. She turned back into the house then turned and watched
him climb into his Toyota pick up. Man that big had no business
in a little truck like that.

She checked her eBay sales and then frowned because
there were none. Business was sure down for some reason. She
clicked through to her store and then to the mark down manager.
Of course she had to sign in again. Ebay was very careful about
that. She selected several vinyls and then changed her mind and
selected them all. She marked them 50% off, selected the start
and end date and then clicked to save. That done she checked
her emails. Nothing very interesting there. She wandered to the
kitchen and stood at the sink. She really should fix some lunch,
but suddenly the idea of eating alone brought tears to her eyes.
Was this how the rest of her life would be? Eating alone,
sleeping alone, walking alone? What was the point? She
opened the refrigerator and picked out an apple. Then she
grabbed a handful of Cheddar Cheese squares. She took her
keys off the hook behind the door. At the clink of the keys,
Daisy and Elvira appeared, fresh from a nap!

“Come on girls! Let’s go for a little walk up the
mountain.” She picked her knap sack off the hook, put two
bottles of water and an empty plastic sour cream tub inside. “
Got everything you ladies need, so let’s hit it!” She put the
keys in her pocket, the knap sack over her shoulder, got a bottle
of water for herself, and lastly took her walking stick down
from over the door. It was a gift from Tom many years ago. It
was very sturdy and had a hummingbird etched on the side with
flowers. Very good for stabilizing herself as she walked and
sturdy enough that she could defend herself if need be.
The dogs ran ahead and sniffed everything in sight. Of
course they also had to mark their territory, because that is what
dogs do. It was a beautiful day and while warm it had a cool
breeze blowing down from the mountain. She picked a trail that
looked sort of worn and the dogs immediately joined her. Birds
flitted in the canopy overhead as they walked. Meg was always
alert to the possibility of a timber rattler so she kept the dogs
close.

Almost imperceptibly a change came over Meg. Her
footsteps slowed and the dogs came closer. What was it? She
could feel eyes on her. She turned around. Nothing. Daisy
stopped and her hackles rose. She stared ahead into the
underbrush. Meg stopped and strained her eyes. Nothing. No,
wait, there was something. Something about that big Pine tree.
The growth at the bottom of it was mashed down. Had a bear
been here? Could very well have been. It was wilderness and
there were bears. But the limbs had been removed. No, not
removed. Only some of them. It looked like a ladder the way
they were staggered. She stepped on the first one. Then up
another one. One more. She could set up here and be quite
alone. This branch made a nice broad setting place. She sat and
turned. Her eyes fell on her farm. A cold feeling of dread settled
over her. Was she the only one that knew about this place? She
quickly scampered down the limbs again and when she reached
the ground the dogs were staring at her quizzically.
She turned quickly and started back down the path. The
dogs fell in step behind her and did not run and sniff. They
could barely keep up with her. When she reached the edge of
the clearing she stopped. She opened the knapsack and got the
bowl and water. The dogs lapped greedily. Meg gave them each
a piece of cheese and then ate the rest of the cheese and the
apple. Her nerves began to relax and her mind began to clear.
Maybe it was just the spell of the forest. She looked down the
mountain. She could not see her farm from here. She looked up
to see if she could see the tree she had climbed. No. She was
going to need to delve into this a little further. Where did the
trail lead? Was there a house up there? If so, who lived there?
Who could she ask? Fred. Of course. He had been on this
mountain for years. He would know.

She knew she needed to proceed with caution when she
talked to Fred because he was one skittish little fellow. That was
all right. She was just curious. Now how to get Fred to the
house without alerting him. Of course! Now the only way
anyone could get into her house was if they used the doggie door.
It was in the wall going to the back yard. True her dogs were
small and so was the doggie door, but it could be possible. She
would have Fred build a metal cage that the dogs would exit into
for their “personal needs.” She would have plenty of time to
visit with him while that was being done. She glanced back over
her shoulder as she hurried down the mountain. She could not
shake the feeling that eyes were boring into her back.
When she reached the house she quickly entered and
slammed the door behind her. With shaking hands she found
Fred’s number, but before she dialed she took several deep
breathes and composed herself. The phone rang several times
before she finally gave up. She would try later. He did not seem
to have an answering machine. After several hours, he answered.
She explained her plan to him and he promised to come by the
next morning. She smiled as she hung up the phone. Fred was
so easy.

Installment #11

Installment #11

Fred

Ah, yes, this was going to be a good job. Even after he
paid for the wrought iron and the delivery he was going to pocket
over $3,000. He thought briefly of where to hide it. He had an
empty Hershey’s can on the shelf. That would work perfectly to
hold the bills, but where in the yard. He thought of all the little
cans buried here and there.  The area around the cabin was getting pretty filled up, but
he owned 12 acres so he was not going to run out of room any
time soon. It was just that he had a plan. The money he got from
his trust fund was plenty to live on. And dad had built this little
cabin and then left it to him when he died. No one else to leave
it to since his bitch of a mother had taken off with some salesman
and left him and dad to figure it out. He had been an
impressionable teenager when she did that. Both Fredric Himes,
Jr and his father, Fredric Himes Sr. had mourned the loss of
Marybeth Himes. It was not that it was a shock, quite the
contrary. Fredric Himes worked long hours in the factory and
then at his accounting job on the side and Marybeth was a young
woman and full of life. And she loved to dance and hang out with
party people.

So she was gone one day. Just gone. No note, no tearful
goodbye, just a slamming door while Freddie was in school and
Fredric was at the factory. Fredric donated her belongings to
charity and never spoke her name again. Freddie just envied the
boys who had a mother and wished someone would make him
cookies. No one seemed too surprised that he never dated. Girls
were not to be trusted. He learned to cook and keep house and
what good would a woman be anyway? He hung out in the
saloon and learned the tricks of the trade there.

He was a misfit in school so when he turned 16 years
old, he just quit going. Big waste of time. He mowed yards and
shoveled snow. He painted and fixed roofs and mended fences
and became quite the handyman. Very dependable. Did great
work and charged a reasonable fee. Strange bird, but honest as
the day was long. Then Dad built the house halfway up the
mountain not far from Denver. Built it for a vacation home.
Just somewhere to get away from the rat race that was his life.
But it was more to Freddie. To him it was an oasis away from
the pitying eyes of the people in Denver. The ones who never
had forgotten about how Marybeth had just walked away and
never looked back. Poor Freddie, raised by his Dad. No woman
in his life.

So they lived; the father in Denver and the son on the
mountain until one day the father stepped in front of a train.
Some said it was an accident and some said it was on purpose.
So young, only 47 years old. He had left a will and a very large
Life Insurance. The executor took over and a trust fund was
established for Freddie. The home on Larimer street was sold to
a developer. And then Freddie was dealt the crowning blow.
The house was demolished and the reason Marybeth had for
leaving was revealed. Her bones behind the wall in the root
cellar spoke volumes and her son now saw it clearly. His father
had not let her go quietly. He had not let her go at all. For all
the years Freddie had missed his mother, she was right out there
in the yard. And his benevolent father had put her there.

Yes, the mountain was where he must remain. The
mountain and his solitary life. Oh, and the cans of money. Those
were his monuments. When he buried one, he never dug it up. He
knew it was there. He knew who had given it to him and why.
That was all he needed. He had been doing this for 20 years and
he had no idea how much was there. It did not matter. What did
matter was that when he buried something of value, he
remembered. Not like his father. No, not at all like his father.
Freddie looked at his reflection in the window. He was
not a bad looking man at all. Just over six feet tall and a body
hardened by hard work and primal living. A diet of natural foods
grown in his own yard kept him healthy. Lots of water to drink.
A tender yearling deer on occasion, or a rabbit, or a dove
furnished him with needed protein. His dark brown hair was
shoulder length and his beard was full. His dark brown eyes were
alert, but they covered the confusion in his mind.

No woman was not exactly the truth. There had been that
one in Kansas when he was working construction. That was
back when he thought he was normal, before they found the
bones. He liked to travel the country and just taste life. He had
tasted that woman very deeply. He had wanted to stay, but he
couldn’t. Women were evil. They would tie you down and you
would have to work in a factory and be tired all the time. Then
they would just leave. She had been warm and willing and he
had thought about telling her about his mom and asking if she
was that way, but he knew better. She would just lie. He wished
he could remember her name. He could remember her body and
how she moved beneath him, but he could not remember her
face. When the last day of work came he was relieved. He had
grabbed his gear and headed back to Denver, secure in the
knowledge that she could never find him. He was right.

Then he smiled as he remembered her name. It was
Darling.

Yes, that was it, Darling.

Installment #10

Installment #10

Kevin/Meg

Kevin stopped on the trail and fished the cell phone out
of his pocket. M o m . “Hey mom! What’s up? You never call
this early.”
“Just wanted to tell you that I miss our little morning
runs. I knew you would be out this morning. I guess I am just
a little lonely for you.”
“Well, yeah, but if you moved out here you would not
need to miss me, would you?” He hesitated briefly, then forged
ahead. “Mom, I have met someone. I want you to meet him. If
we can work it out we will fly out the end of the month. He
owns a pub here and will need to get someone to take care of it
while he is gone. And he has a cat. And his own house.” Kevin
suddenly stopped as he realized he was rambling. “Mom? You
there?”
“Yes, dear. Just give me a minute. This is not what I
expected this morning.” She took a deep breathe. “ I am so
happy you have someone. I just need a moment to gather my
thoughts.” Thoughts she must never let him know she had. She
waved the phone in the air as she crumpled a leaf. “Kevin, my
phone is acting up. Let me call you this evening.” As they rang
off, Meg sank into the chair at the kitchen table and broke into
sobs.
She had known for years that Kevin was gay. But he had
no steady friend, so there was hope. Now it all came into a
reality that she was not prepared for. There were so many
ramifications in the words “I have met someone.” I have met a
man and you will never be a grandmother. I have met someone
and I will never be your little boy again. I will turn to him and
turn away from you. You will never hold a grandchild. Never.
Never, ever. She watched the truck bringing another load of the
steel bars and it suddenly dawned on her that while she was
building a wall to keep the world out, she was also building a
wall to keep herself in. Kevin had a right to be happy and if this
man made him happy wasn’t that more important than her selfish
wants? And how selfish that she had not even asked his name.

She dried her eyes and watched the workman carrying the bars
toward the house. She would not share this with Kevin.
Kevin was just getting back to stride when the phone rang
again. Mom. What now? “Hi Mom. Did you forget
something?”
“No, dear. I just want you to know that I am happy you
have someone and I would love to meet him. But does he have a
name and what does he do and all the things I should have asked
before? “
Kevin suddenly laughed out loud. “Oh, Mom! I am so glad you
lost your connection a bit ago, cause it sure sounds like you have
a solid one now! This is the mom I know. I will email you all
about him when I get off tonight. Have a good day and I love
you.”
“And I love you, Kevin.” They both smiled as they broke
the connection. Meg turned back to the window and Kevin
turned back to the trail.

Installment #9

Installment #9

Him

He sat in the tree with his back against the broad trunk.
From this vantage point he had an unobstructed view of the
small farm below. Of course the telescope was one of the high
dollar ones that could pinpoint and bring in a gnat if he needed it
to. He had not bought it for this particular reason, but rather to
study the heavens, but he liked to use resources he had on hand.
If there was ever a question as to why he had such a high
powered instrument he would just show them the notes in his
“The moon as I see it.” notebook complete with dates and
drawings.

What a beehive of activity it was this morning around the
house. It was very clear that Meg was having the house secured
for some reason or another. He thought back to his last visit and
tried to recall if he had left anything behind. Nothing. He had
seen the screen hanging loose last week and wondered about that.
It seemed that the screen had been loose for several days. It
seemed to go unnoticed until the idiot handyman had called her
attention to it last week. He would have been content to set here
in his little nest up in the tree and watch her farm down below
24/7, but he did have to put in an appearance at the office
occasionally. Jennifer was an excellent secretary and office
manager, but way too nosey for her own good.

He watched as the welders began installing the decorative
iron over the windows. He sure hoped it was to improve the
look of the place and not to keep him out. That was a waste of
time. Nothing would keep him out of her world. He had watched
her and Tom for years and he had loved her then as much as he
loved her now. How convenient for him that Tom had loved
hiking in the back country. How convenient that the avalanche
had swept down the mountain on that particular day burying Tom
under many feet of snow. Convenient? He laughed to himself.

Memories are precious things and the best part of the memories
is that they are all in the mind of the one remembering. He alone
knew how the avalanche started. How patient he had been that
morning shadowing Tom along on his back country trek that day.
He was way up the mountain and Tom down low. And then he
saw what he had been looking for. The snow was piled and
seemed to be trembling and just waiting for the signal. He gave
a shiver of delight as he pulled the starting pistol from his jacket
and at just the right moment, pulled the trigger releasing the loud
bang. Tom’s head jerked upward at the sound, but all he saw was
the wall of snow thundering down the slope directly headed for
him. He did not have time to even move. He disappeared under
a wall of white. He was gone.

The man gave a sigh of relief. Poor Meg. All alone with
that little queer son in Boston. She would need a man to take
care of her. But he would give her time. He had lots of that.
Not like he had friends to occupy his time. The job took very
little time and was quite lucrative. It all depended on the stock
market. Jennifer handled the paper work and all he had to do
was invest money and make money for other people. The more
he made for other people the more he made for himself. It paid
well enough that he had been able to buy this little cabin in the
mountains on 40 acres. Solitude. It was just a short commute
into Denver and far enough away from civilization that he was
not bothered by anyone. And that is how he had found Meg and
Tommy. He had met them on a walk in the woods. They had
nodded to each other. But Meg had looked directly into his eyes
and smiled. Not many women did that. Well, actually, none.
The scars he had brought home from Viet Nam usually stopped
people from coming any closer. He did not need anyone close.
Even his own mother had shuddered when she saw him. Her
mistake.

Installment # 7 & 8

Installment 7

Him

He watched her pull into the garage. He watched as the
lights came on in the house and imagined the dogs running to
meet her. The idiot that was tending the place had locked them in
their crates. He knew that was not right. When the overgrown
boy had left he had gone into the house and let them out. They
had not even barked at him. Was it because they liked him? Or
because he had let them out of their crates? Or because he had
given them a treat from the little jar on the shelf?
He had parked his jeep behind the chicken house. Then
realizing that the light in the chicken house shone on his fender
he had turned it off. The switch was located sensibly right inside
the door with easy access. Then he settled back in the seat to wait
for her to come home. Just to be sure she was safe. He could
have stayed at the airport and followed her, but this way was
better. This way she was coming home to him.
He watched her in the moonlight on the veranda. He
wondered what she was thinking. Panic seized him as he
realized she would know the light was not on in the chicken
house. What if she came to see what the problem was? What if
she found him there? He was not ready for that. When she
turned to go into the house he thought it best to leave. He
quickly turned the light back on and drove out of the drive in the
dark. As he reached the road he saw her returning to the
veranda. That was a very close call. He must be careful from
now on and not take any more chances. He pulled the light
switch on and the light flooded the road ahead of him. He gave
the Jeep more gas and began to hum a tune under his breathe. A
Garth Brooks tune. The one about the lonely woman and the
summer and the hot kid that got lucky with the older chick.
Then he laughed out loud.


Installment 8

Home

Meg grimaced as she settled at the computer. 63
emails. She ran the cursor down the list. Nothing from
redranger. She started with the junk, then the forwards.
Next she looked for the PayPal’s that announced that she had
received a payment. There were six of them and she quickly
printed them.
Then she clicked on the eBay “your item sold emails “
that corresponded with the payments. Those out of the way she
clicked on the other eBay correspondence. Six were questions
which she quickly answered. Two from peepster25 who told her
first how much she liked her new necklace and then the next one
wished her a good vacation. Eight items were ended and needed
to be relisted . At last she stared at a blank screen. She gathered
the items that had sold and loaded the shipping labels in the top
bed of the printer. Before she could call up the shipping list the
mail box clicked. Redranger. She opened the email and began to
smile.
“Meg?”
“Eldon?” And the conversation was on. She told him
how great the short vacation had been and how good Kevin
looked and how they had ran and gone to the Golden Gate
Bridge. It felt good to visit with Eldon. It was such a
comfortable feeling. No pressure. And she could set at her
computer in her ragged tee shirt and her gym shorts and he
would never know. Long distance, Internet romance, what ever
you called it, was exactly what she needed this morning.
He was the first to break off since he had to go to work.
It was after 8:00 AM where he was which was two hours ahead
of her time here in the Mountain Standard Time. So he must be
on Eastern Standard Time. She made a note to call Fred about
the light in the chicken house. Fred was the retired Marine who
helped out with odd jobs around this area. He lived a little ways
up the mountain in a small cabin and worked cheap. Fred was a
sad specimen as were many of the characters who lived on the
mountain. Not bad people, just sort of misfits.
“I will be in early tonight and we can catch up. OK? ;)”
Eldon always signed off with the little smiley face and Meg
always smiled when she saw it.
She tapped back an “OK” and headed for the kitchen.
She needed to make cookies for the luncheon on Tuesday for the
AIDS clients. Once a month she sponsored a social luncheon in
the conference room at the ACS office in town. AIDS Client
Services had been active since 1987 when the epidemic was
reaching new heights and help was not to be found. Currently
the office served 145 people, but only about 20 of them were
active in social events. The climate of the disease had changed a
lot over the years and now it was more a chronic disease as
opposed to a death sentence as it had been back then. It was
much easier in this day and age to get on Disability Income.
Meg was glad that Kevin was working. She could not picture
him sitting and waiting for the next shoe to drop. He had put
himself through college and he would put himself through life.
Meg gave Fred a quick call and made arrangements for
him to come by later in the morning to check out the light in
the chicken house. That being taken care of she headed for the
shower. She loved a nice hot shower especially on a cool
morning like today. Most mornings were cool here in the
foothills as were the evenings. That was one of the great
things about Colorado. Kansas had been hot and humid. True
she had never needed chapstick in Kansas, but then she rarely
used it now. Just some times. The humidity was very low in
this area so the heat and the cold did not affect her like they
had in Selda. She suddenly thought of her sister and instead of
the shower she picked up the phone.
“Eleanor! How are you? I have not talked to you since
forever.”
Her younger sister laughed softly. “Course not. You
just stay holed up out there and don’t talk to anyone. When are
you coming for a visit? You know Betsy is getting married
again, don’t you?”
“Well, how could I? Nobody ever calls. You know you
could come out here and see me. I always go to see you.”
And she suddenly remembered why she never called.
She was the outsider. Mom had always been close to the three
sisters. When Dad had left and moved to New Jersey with his
secretary, Eleanor, Betsy and Merilyn had turned their backs on
him and taken care of Mom. Meg had been in Montana then
and saw no reason to return. Mom was in good hands and
apparently so was Dad. Now Dad was dead and Mom was still
not going to let it go. Nor were the girls.
“OK, Ellie, let’s try to get together for Christmas. I
would love to have you all out here. Want to?” Eleanor
promised to talk to the sisters and Mom and let her know. So
Meg rang off and started the shower with warm water. She
stepped under the spray and turned the cold down a little. As
she relaxed under the hot water she reached for the soap. Her
hand stopped in mid air as she looked at the strange bar of soap
in the tray. Irish Spring? She did not use Irish Spring. She
bought all her soap from a girl on eBay who made it in her
kitchen. It was all coordinated. Tahitian Vanilla Soap, Tahitian
Vanilla Body Butter and Tahitian Vanilla Lotion. She had not
bought any thing else in the last three years. She suddenly felt
very vulnerable and small in her nakedness. She stepped
quickly from the shower and wrapped in her lavender towel.
The towel smelled of Irish Spring and she discarded it in a heap
of the floor.
What was going on here? Who had been in her home?
Was she alone now? The door bell chimed and she jumped.
Grabbing her robe she ran down the hall, pulling it on and
belting it as she moved. She wrenched the door open and
encountered Fred on the porch with his hat in his hands. She
must have been a sight because he stepped back and almost fell
off the porch. Suddenly she felt very foolish.
“Oh , Fred! I am sorry! I forgot you were coming.
Please excuse me. I must look a mess. Come in.” She stepped
back while opening the door wider.
“Oh, no, Miss. I will just go check out the chicken house
if that is all right with you. If you’ve got a problem I will get
right on it.” He hurried down the steps with a confused look on
his face. Meg sagged against the door jamb. What a damn fool
she must look like.
She left the door ajar in case Fred got back before her and
hurried down the hall to dress. She quickly grabbed a pair of
jeans and a flannel shirt, panties and white cotton socks. In less
than 10 minutes she was back at the door fully dressed and
watching Fred ambling across the yard towards the house.
She met him at the door with two cups of coffee.
She handed his to him and motioned to the glider. “Well,
Fred. What did you find?”
“Not a thing, Miss. Light seems to be fine and I
checked all the wires. Must have just been a trick of your
imagination or a gremlin.” He sipped his coffee and looked
toward the chicken house. “I did notice though that when I
walked by the side of the house on the way out there that you
got a loose screen right there on your garage.”
He gestured and Meg’s eyes followed his finger. Loose
screen? The whole bottom half of the screen hung loose. How
had that happened? As she realized how it had happened her
stomach went ice cold with dread. Some one had been in her
home while she was in California! Nothing was missing, she
was sure. She would check, but she knew suddenly that if the
intruder had meant to do harm to anything he would not have
taken a shower and dried on her towel.
In a very controlled voice she turned to Fred. “Yes,
Freddie, I want you to fix that, but let’s do this. Go into town
and get the screen and while you are at it, I want to burglar proof
this place. See Mr. Watts at the Iron and Metal place and have
something nice and sturdy installed. You work with him and I
would like to have it done sooner rather than later.”
Fred smiled. This would be a job worth doing. Put a little
money in his pocket. He liked money. If he didn’t like it, why
did he have it buried all over his property? He pulled his tape
measure off his belt and took a notebook and pencil out of his
shirt pocket.
“Yes, ma’am! I will get right on that!” He whistled as he
walked to the first window.

Installment #6..Meg

INSTALLMENT #6
Meg
Meg hurried across the lobby at Stapleton. Getting her
luggage out of this place was always such a hassle. How could
any place so modern and beautiful be so inept at the simple
things in life? As she watched for her plaid bag with the teal
ribbons, her mind drifted back to California. Kevin was keeping
something from her. She could feel it. He had avoided the gay
bars when they went out. Did he do that for her or for him?
Since learning he was gay and HIV she had educated
herself on the life style and the disease. It was quite a leap for
her Bible Belt mentality to make, but she had done it. Now she
was even comfortable with the fact that he was different. The
HIV was a different matter, but his health was good and that was
a relief. He tried harder than most of the kids she dealt with at
the HIV/AIDS center. She stomped her foot as she watched her
bag disappear around the carousel and chastised herself for being
so preoccupied. This time she was ready when it sailed into view
and very soon was on her way out the door with the little bag
17
bobbing merrily behind her on it’s tiny wheels.
The drive home had been uneventful and two hours later
when she pulled into her drive and hit the garage door opener
she was relieved to see the lights on in the house. She was sure
Brice had left them on so she would not have to return to a dark
house.
It was almost midnight so she decided not to go check on
the chickens. They were fine and she was tired. Daisy and
Elvira ran to meet her when she stepped into the kitchen. Icarus,
the haughty cat watched the dogs with disdain. Her time would
come later, after the dogs were crated and asleep.
Meg glanced at the computer, but decided against that
also. She was tired and hungry and just wanted the solace of her
own bed. She got a glass of milk and 3 cookies and headed up
the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Daisy stopped
suddenly and looked up at Meg. Meg froze in place. What was
it? Nothing. Nothing at all was different. No sound. Nothing
out of place. So what was it? She willed herself to relax. She
knew animals could sense fear and there was nothing to be afraid
of here in her home, in the hallway on the way to her bed.
She reached down and scratched Daisy behind her ears.
Then Elvira wanted to be petted and soon they all relaxed and the
fear that she had felt disappeared. She gave the dogs a treat from
the jar inside the linen closet, opened their crates and then closed
the doors behind them. She never latched them, just closed them.
Their crates were their security.
As Meg got her night gown off the hook on the bathroom
door she thought how nice it had been in California. She knew
she would need to think about a move before too much longer.
The farm was great and it was her home, but it did not make
sense at all to live out here in the boon docks with the nearest
neighbor almost a mile away. She did not need this big four
bedroom home and all the expense of the upkeep on it. The acre
of land was not enough to make a living with, but too much to
landscape and keep up with the weeds. And what were her
goals? What did she want to do with the rest of her life?
She undressed quickly and tossed her clothes in the
18
hamper. She pulled her nightgown over her head and then
walked to the French doors in her bedroom and pulled them
open and stepped out onto the veranda. The moon was full and
the view was clear. She studied the chicken house for a moment
and wondered at how boring a chicken’s life must be. What
would they think if she just went out and let them loose. Would
they leave? Probably not. More likely a fox would make a
meal of some of them. Best not to do that.
But something was not right. She thought about the
scene before her and could not quite put her finger on what it
was. She finally remembered her cookies and milk on the shelf
in the hall where the dogs were sleeping and stepped quickly
inside and into the hall to retrieve the snack. Then back to the
veranda to survey her kingdom. As she drained the last swallow
of milk from the glass she realized that what was not right before
was now corrected. The light had not been on in the chicken
house before. It was always on at night, but it had not been on
and now it was. How could that be? There was no one here to
turn it on, but it should have been on. Oh, silly, it probably had
some sort of short or something. She would check it out
tomorrow. If the lights were playing games, the chickens would
not lay. And that was their job. Everything had to stay on an
even keel.
As she turned and walked back into the house she just
missed the flash of moonlight on metal as the black Jeep
Cherokee turned onto the road and headed up the mountain.

Installment #5...

INSTALLMENT #5
Kevin
Kevin breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the big
American Airlines plane lift off headed west and then bank to
the left and disappear in the Eastern sky. It had been great
having mom here for the four days. It was especially nice to
have her to run with early in the morning. And the fact that a
piece of fruit, or a bowl of soup, or crackers and cheese could
constitute a meal was even better. She understood his current
passion for being a vegetarian and she could take meat or leave
it. He had tried to show her a good time in hopes that she might
sell the farm and move to California. They could afford a house
if it were the two of them. And it did not have to be California.
They could go back to Boston or back to Dallas or maybe up to
Seattle. There was really nothing holding her in Colorado
except memories. No family. Just the farm. Her sisters were in
15
Kansas and he was just not comfortable with her being alone on
the farm.
It was a lot of work and while there was room for a hired
man and the chickens brought in enough to afford help, she still
refused. It was good that she was occupied with her little store
on eBay. He checked in from time to time and her merchandise
seemed to move well. Her descriptions were written like she was
talking to an old friend. Meg Parker was definitely a force to be
reckoned with in the technology department.
Kevin pulled his little Subaru into a parking place in
front of Your Little Pub. Guess it was all right to have a brew
since it was almost noon. And he wanted to see Greg. He had
not talked to him while mom was here. Not quite sure he was
ready for mom to meet a male friend. It could be awkward.
When Greg caught sight of Kevin walking across the floor and
up to the bar, he smiled and changed directions. He had been
taking a tub of dishes to the kitchen but that could wait. He
smiled shyly at Kevin. He had never met a man before that
could turn his knees to jelly and his insides to butterflies, but
this man did. Kevin was so sure. So aloof, but when he turned
his brown eyes on him, Greg was done. He felt like the man
looked into the very depths of his soul. Eyes of brown did that
to him. “Hey, Greg, how goes it?”
“Great Kevin. And how did your mom’s visit go? I guess
she is gone now?”
“Yeah, I just put her on the plane. It was all good. I
should have had you over, but ..”
“I know. You don’t need to say any more. You have not
met my mom either!” They both laughed uneasily. They had
discussed the mother thing before and were both sure they
needed more time to adjust and accept themselves as a couple
before holding each other out to the family. Greg was more sure
then Kevin, but then he had been out in San Francisco while
Kevin had never held hands in public with a man. It would take
some getting used to that was for sure.
“Hey, Kevin, I picked up that old Loretta Lynn movie
with Sissie Spacek, you know Coal Miners Daughter. Don’t
16
know how good of shape it is in. Got it at the junk store.
Want to come by tonight and watch it? “ Kevin hesitated and
sat his brew back on the bar.
“Can I bring the eats? You do know I don‘t do the meat thing,
don’t you?”
“Hey man, I was there way before you! That is no
problem at all with me.”
“I’ll pick up a bottle of wine.” He turned back to his brew
and thought to himself, “This just gets better all the time!” No
one else would ever understand his deep love for country music.
It just did not fit in with his lifestyle, but here was Greg
understanding him so well. Not only understanding, but
accepting him just as he was. Life indeed was good. Maybe
Greg would get to meet his mom yet!

Installment #4

INSTALLMENT #4
Him


He stepped quickly from the Jeep Cherokee and hurried
across the parking lot and into the airport. He better not miss this
flight or he would be setting right in her lap and that would never
do. It was so much easier before 9-11. Then it was just catch a
flight. Now there was all the security and everything to go
through. Damned inconvenience was about all it was to him. He
emptied his pockets into the tray and stepped into the machine
that would show anything he had missed. Lot better then being
groped, but there was a lot to be said for that also. He smiled to
himself and the security guard smiled back at him. Damn fool.
Like a man of his standing would ever give someone like her a
second look. He belonged to Meg, heart and soul and very soon
she would know it. As the big jet lifted off and the earth fell
behind and below him, he closed his eyes and envisioned the
perfect world that would soon be his. And for the briefest of
moments he thought he felt her breathe on his cheek.

Installment #3

NSTALLMENT #3
EBay
Meg moved the mouse over the eBay logo and double
clicked. While the computer called the program to the forefront
and automatically did the things necessary to get her screen open
she set a cup of water in the microwave and punched
“Beverage”. Technology. Where would she be without it? After
Tom had died and the memorial service was behind her, life
became very mundane and tedious. She had friends, but she was
the widow woman now. The third wheel that just did not fit in.
Her friends tried to include her in thier social life, but she was
always the “extra” at the table. They tried inviting a single man,
but that was not the answer. There did not seem to be an answer
so she had drawn further inward and found herself taking
quilting classes or art classes and had even learned to weave.
Then she discovered eBay.
EBay offered hours of entertaining buying. Then she
tried her hand at selling. By opening a store for only $14.95 a
month she could keep track and list and PayPal collected her
money and sent it to her bank when she wanted it. She started
out just listing a few things on the auction. First was a quilt she
had snagged at the local Goodwill for $15.00. She had it
appraised and found it to be worth $437.00. She put it up for
auction with a $49.00 opening bid. The next morning she had
her bid and 6 watchers. Soon it was up to $179.00. This was
getting to be kind of exciting. By the time the week was up she
had 26 watchers and a high bid of $189.50. It sold in the middle
of the night for $198.50. Meg’s Market was a success! She
began to list things at a Buy It Now price in her store with a
Good Till Canceled time limit. She enjoyed writing the
descriptions and researching what they were worth. She read
everything eBay had to offer on how to have a successful store
and put it all into practice. Her minister turned over a Lion and
Lamb collection and this opened more doors. She began to haunt
the second hand stores, the estate sales, and garage sales. Her
friends put items on consignment and soon she was a power
11
seller with 100% feedback. EBay was becoming a lucrative
venture.She began visiting the chat rooms that eBay maintained
for members. Just now and then at first and only one or two.
But then she made friends. This was now a social network.
Meg had been making jewelry and now she started listing that.
More sales. It seemed in the golden world of the Internet she
was quite the success. Customers messaged her through eBay
and asked her questions and visited and wished her well and
bought her products. One guy in particular caught her fancy in
the chat room and she began looking forward to visiting him in
the evening. Redranger. Just a little harmless flirting. What
could it hurt? But then she checked her messages and found one
from redr726584433. That was how eBay disguised him to
protect his identity.
“Meg, I would like to contact you outside the chat room.
I think we have a lot in common and I would love to know you
better. I need your email.”
She remembered how she had blushed as she hit the
reply button and typed in her email address and hit the send
button. The marketl a d y@h o tma i l . c om . That had been
almost a year ago. The emails came every day.
Sometimes many, many times a day. They visited at all
hours and laughed and Meg began to feel alive again. His name
was Eldon. No last name, just Eldon. He lived up North. Way
up North. She had no intention of ever meeting him, so
addresses and all that were pretty much a moot point. He
worked as an engineer in New York and did a lot of philanthropic
work. He spent two days a week in the local soup kitchen. That
was all she needed to know. They were friends and Meg needed
a friend she could talk to. It was nice to discuss Kevin with
someone. He understood about Tommy and shared her loss as he
was a widower. She could vent to Eldon and he would tell her
she was special. She needed the strokes sometimes just to get
through the day or the night. And what better way than with a
faceless stranger 2000 miles away. She joked that this was the
best kind of relationship because she could leave him in a box at
12
night and not bother with him for days if she chose. He was
always kind because he had no reason not to be. And of course
money was never a problem. The perfect man.
As Summer turned to Fall and then to Winter Meg began
to notice a pattern with Eldon. It seemed that about every four
weeks he would disappear for 6 or 7 days. Nothing. No
forwards. No “Meg?” No nothing. Dead silence on the mail
page. Then as suddenly as he disappeared he would pop back in
her life. No explanation. Just the email with “Meg?” and they
resumed where they had left off.
In June she decided to fly out to San Francisco and spend
a few days with Kevin. Getting away was not easy with the
chickens needing daily care and the two dogs and the insane cat,
but it could be worked out. She called a friend of Kevin’s who
still lived in town. Sure, he would be happy to come out a
couple times a day and gather the eggs and put them in the
walk-in cooler and play with the dogs and ignore the cat. Daisy
and Elvira were very easy dogs. Couch potatoes to the max.
The cat, Icarus, was another matter, but then anyone who has
ever owned a cat knows that cats are not owned.
Meg sent the note to Eldon. “Hey sweetie, I am going to
San Francisco to spend a few days with Kevin. I will holler when
I get back.” There was an immediate reply.
“Meg! Do you think it is wise to be flying with all the
terrorist stuff going on? Can’t he come and see you? Who will
take care of the farm? What about your eBay store?”
This was very uncharacteristic of Eldon. Actually a bit
disturbing. She replied, “I have not seen Kevin in almost a year
and have never been to California. I have a friend of his coming
to watch the farm. I will put the store on vacation. I just don’t
see the problem.”
“Meg, I just worry about you going off like that by
yourself. When are you leaving? I want flight numbers
and times. I will pray for you.”
“Oh, Eldon, you are so sweet. I will be fine and I am
attaching my itinerary, so quit worrying.” She hit the attach
button, chose browse and clicked on the itinerary file, and then
13
hit send. There. But it did feel good to know he would be
worried about her. Must care a little bit. Who knows, maybe
someday. She heard no more from Eldon that day or the next.
The morning of her trip arrived and she emailed him a
happy little note and heard nothing in return. So she drove to
Denver, parked in the long term parking and caught the jet to San
Francisco. This would be a glorious four days with Kevin.
Nothing could spoil it for her, and when she came out of the
tunnel and saw Kevin she ran to him. Her son! He was brown
and healthy and seemed happy. That was all she could hope for
at this time.
The next few days were spent sight seeing and eating in
Kevin’s favorite places. She visited his job site and met his staff.
They all seemed pleasant enough. He had taken a few days off,
so they were bumming. Meg had brought her jogging shoes and
they ran on the trail behind his apartment each morning. The last
day they went to the Golden Gate Bridge. The bridge glowed
golden and the bay was calm and serene as they stood looking
down from the bluff. “ I see why you love this place, son.
California is definitely different than Colorado or Montana.  Meg suddenly shuddered.
Kevin looked startled. “What was that all about? Are
you cold mom? “ She laughed.
“No, it was just a rabbit ran across my grave, I guess.
That is what Momma always used to say. I don’t know.”
Meg turned slowly and caught sight of a tall man getting
into a silver SUV. She had thought they were alone on the bluff,
but apparently they were not. As she and Kevin started down the
incline to the parking lot she watched the silver Jeep Cherokee
slowly leave the lot and turn onto the highway. She wondered at
the uneasy feeling in her chest, but dismissed it as a mother not
wanting to leave her only son. That was all